Burn
by standing-in-the-doorway
Summary: “So your problem with Dr. Brennan is you don’t know what will or will not catch fire or where you stand.” Post Priest in the Courtyard. Oneshot.


AN: So I'm still working on _Proceed With Caution _but Wyatt's innuendos in "The Priest in the Churchyard" made me write this. Blame Stephen Fry and the writers. And of course the BB heat. As always please review!

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**"_So your problem with Dr. Brennan is you don't know what will or will not catch fire or where you stand."_**

At first, he took Wyatt's words literally. He thought they were about arson and feeling out of place. Until he was lying in bed 2 nights later thinking about how glad he was that he and Bones had been able to work out their issues and solve the case. He turned onto his side, contemplating his psychiatrist's words. She didn't not go with Sully because of him. She just needed to have purpose in her life.

A purpose that they were finding together. Through their work together.

So he must have at least factored into her decision somewhat, right? He didn't know. Sometimes he could read her like a book and other times she was a complete mystery to him. She was infuriating.

Wyatt was right and not just about how he put his hands in his pockets or crossed his arms when he was standing on the platform. He hated not knowing where he stood in Bones' eyes. Did she even consider him when Sully asked her to leave with him? Did she think about who his new partner would be if she left? Would she have missed him like he would have missed her? He shifted again onto his back with a sigh. He and Bones may have fixed a kink in their working relationship, but they still weren't communicating.

Tossing and turning again, he knew he wasn't going to get any sleep until he talked to her. Checking the clock, he realized it was still early – not even midnight. Getting up and pulling on jeans, a t-shirt, and his leather jacket, he headed out.

Twenty minutes later, he was in front of Brennan's door. She opened it in response to his knock and he noted the surprise on her face. She obviously had not been expecting a visit from him in the midnight of the night.

"Hey Bones. Can I come in?" he asked casually, ignoring her raised eyebrow. She stepped aside letting him in.

"What are you doing here, Booth?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"You know, there's this new invention called a telephone."

"Ha ha. Very funny, Bones. I love the way your sense of humor is developing," he replied sarcastically. "But I'm serious here."

"Well then, what do you want to talk about?"

"Tell me why you didn't go with Sully." His eyes locked on hers for a long moment before she looked away.

"Dr. Wyatt told you. I need a purpose-driven life. Sailing around the Caribbean with Sully would not have given me the purpose that I need." Booth's sixth sense that she didn't believe in was operating in full force. He saw the way she avoided eye contact, the way her fingers played with the edge of her camisole.

"I don't doubt that's part of it, but I think there's more."

"Booth, what does it matter? I stayed and we're not having problems at work. Why do we have to discuss this?"

"Because I need to know. Did you even think of me when he asked you to leave? About what I would do without you here?" Her eyes snapped to him.

"Of course I did, but you told me to leave!"

"Are you angry with me about that?" he asked, brow furrowing. He didn't understand the emotion flashing in her crystal blue eyes. "I didn't want you to leave. I just wanted you to be happy."

"Do you think I'm not happy here? Working at the Jeffersonian and with you? That's my life. I like my life!"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't!" He wasn't sure why their voices were raised, why they were snapping at each other again. It was like they had been the other day, but at least now they were talking about their issues instead of masking it with a conversation about religion.

"Then what are you saying? What are you doing here?!" He didn't know. Coming to talk to her had seemed like a reasonable thing to do when he was tossing and turning in bed, but now it didn't really seem rational. The next thing he did wasn't particularly rational either.

Stepping forward, he took Brennan's face in his hands and kissed her hard. His lips were on hers, hot and wanting. He tried to convey everything he felt for her in the kiss: frustration, anger, suppressed desire and all the fear he felt when he thought she was going to leave.

One large hand tangled in her auburn hair, keeping her close, as he realized she was kissing him back. Brennan's lips were soft against his and after a moment, her hands slipped under his jacket at his waist, fingers clenching his t-shirt. A little moan escaped her when his tongue ran over her lower lip and requested entrance into her mouth. She let him in, her own tongue tangling wetly with his.

'_He is an amazing kisser. Why haven't we done this before?" _Brennan thought briefly before her thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of her back hitting the wall. Booth had her pinned, sandwiched between the wall and his hard body, as he kissed her relentlessly.

Finally, she had to break away for air. Both panting hard, they stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them crackling with electricity, before Booth leaned in and captured her lips again. She kissed him back with passion, wrapping her arms around her neck and going up on her toes. Between fervid kisses, she managed to gasp out a question.

"What are we doing?" He answered, equally breathless.

"Catching fire."


End file.
